Date: Mon, 08 Jun 2015 18:22:11 -0400 From: Gmail Subject: The Boy in the Mirror Chapter One **The Boy in the Mirror** *chapter one: the dream* I just turned 18 a few days ago, my name is Cole. I'm slender and tall, shaved head with brown eyes. My sexual peak was at its best, as a normal teenager. My hormones were going wild. I was horny 24/7. I jacked off every chance I could get. In the shower, in bed, and even on the couch when I was alone. I moved with my dad into an old creepy house last night. The house looked as if it were falling apart. The paint was chipped and faded. The wooden floor were warped and the windows were nailed shut. Not to mention the house creeked throughout the day. The first night I stayed, all I had was a mattress in my room. We haven't gotten the rest of my stuff out of storage yet. The last owner had left some things and broken down furniture. But I had found a full length mirror that I brought into my room and set it up at the closet door. My dad was always busy so he never came out of his study. I never really knew what he did in there and I never asked. So I pretty much had the house to myself. The cable wasn't set up yet so all I had was a radio and some magazines to keep me occupied. It was getting late, so I decided to shower before I went to bed. I turned the faucet on and heard the pipes cling and make odd sounds which made it even creepier. The water dripped out slow at first then kicked in and shot a stream of hot water out. The bathroom steamed up instantly with no ventilation. I climbed in and began to wash myself. After a minute of being in the shower I heard the doorknob rustling like someone was trying to turn it. I had it locked so I didn't bother looking out. I finished up my shower and stepped out to grab my towel. I looked at the mirror and there was a fresh handprint on it. And the door was cracked open. I started to get nervous by that time. I didn't bother getting dressed or drying off. I wrapped the towel around my waist and ran down the hall to my dads office. I knocked on the door and it opened slightly. I peered in and nothing. He wasn't there. I started to open the door even more to get a better look, but by the time I got a chance to open it all the way... "What are you doing?" Dad asked I nearly shit myself as I dropped the towel. I was not expecting him to come up behind me. "N-n-nothing.." I stuttered. "I was looking for you to see if you came into the bathroom when I was showering." He just stared at my for a minute with an irritated look on his face then raised an eyebrow. "Um, no son. I was in the study the whole time. I just got up to grab a glass of water." He said in a monotone voice. "Then why was the door open when I locked it? And the handprint on the mirror?" I asked as I covered myself up with the towel. "Haha must be this old house. It seems to be alive or has a life of its own." He chuckled and walked into the study. "I need some quiet so I can get my work done. Goodnight son." He said as he shut the door behind him. "Maybe he's right. Its an old house, everything can be explained right?" I asked myself. I headed back to the bedroom which was right across from the bathroom. I shut the bathroom door then walked into my room. I dropped the towel and closed the door, I grabbed the magazine and flipped through until I found a good picture to look at. Although it was a straight porn, I was more focused on the guys fucking the girls. I layed down on my side with my hand propping my head up. I found a few good pictures then I started to play with myself. 5 inches soft, I grabbed ahold of my dick and gave it a couple squeezes until I could feel the blood pumping into it. As it pulsed in my hand, I began to stroke it; sliding my hand up and down the shaft. Slow at first then began to speed up the pace. My dick was at its fullest strength at 8 inches. With the image in my head, I layed on my back and started to squeeze my dick as I was running my hand up and down faster and faster. I could feel my body shaking and starting to tense up. My dick was leaking already and the pleasure was starting to get overwhelming as I was getting to the end. I arched my back and with one final movement of my hand, I shot a nice warm load all over my stomach and chest. I then grabbed the towel to clean up the mess. Then I lay down and fell sleep. As I slept, I began to dream. The mirror that was in my room had been placed at the end of the hall. There seemed to be countless number of doors down the way. I tried to open one door and walked through which led me back into the same exact hall. I then began to walk to the mirror but it seemed like the hall was getting longer and longer with each step I took. I was going nowhere I thought to myself, so I stopped in my tracks. I heard whispering then giggling coming from the hall but nobody to be seen. I turned to look behind me and there it was. The mirror at the end of the hall. My reflection staring me dead in the eyes. But it wasn't me, as the reflection blinked when I didn't. He began to raise his hand to place it on the mirror. Once he placed his hand, it began to sink through to my side, it looked as if the mirror was liquid. The ripples form around the fingers then the wrist. His arm came out far enough to be able to place his hand on my cheek. Softly caressing my face, I could feel the warmth. He then whispers to me "stay with me. Be with me. Forever and always." Right after he whispers, everything goes dark then I woke up to a clap of thunder. I sat up sweating and soaked, but I could still feel the warmth from his hand. Was it a dream?